


Of Crowns and Wolves

by KaliopeShipsIt



Series: I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Accidental Bonding, Alive Hale Family, Alive Laura Hale, Alive Talia Hale, Alternate Universe - Medieval, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Angst, Bottom Derek Hale, Derek mpreg, Evil Kate, Forbidden Love, Hurt Derek Hale, Hurt Scott, M/M, Mpreg, Oblivious Derek, Oblivious Stiles, Prince Stiles, Secret Relationship, Servant Derek, Social Issues, Top Stiles Stilinski, Vernon Boyd & Derek Hale Friendship, sick erica
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 23:15:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5516810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliopeShipsIt/pseuds/KaliopeShipsIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The end of the great Werewolf-Human Wars brought about a change in the world's social order, forcing werewolf packs into a nomadic life-style of traveling from kingdom to kingdom to earn their keep and contribute to society. </p><p>It has been 200 years since the werewolves' surrender, but despite important advances to protect their kind and guarantee them rights the relationship between the races remains tense.</p><p>Old-fashioned hunters continue to roam the lands and fraternization between humans and werewolves is considered unsavory and illegal, in some kingdoms even punishable by death.  </p><p>When Alpha Talia Hale negotiates a working contract between King John II Stilinski's court and her pack, her son Derek and Crown Prince Stiles quickly cross boundaries and all too soon their forbidden love can no longer be hidden.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Crowns and Wolves

**Author's Note:**

> My Lovelies! 
> 
> I have been working on this story on and off ever since June/July (the idea came to me around 1:30 in the morning when I got woken up by the rain pounding through my open window because obviously that's the time to exclaim "Medieaval/Royalty AU!") and when it hit 100 pages the other day I decided, "You said you were done posting for 2015 but we all knew it was a lie, so what the heck."
> 
> It's not 98% done (this one's going to be a longer one again, though not the monster-behemoth that was Expiration Dates) but I know where I'm going, so updates might not be weekly, but they'll come. 
> 
> A word of 'warning': Some of you might recall I am not an English native speaker, so if you're hoping for some medieval-style old English, I'm sorry to say this story will be a disappointment - skills and limits ;). 
> 
> This chapter is a lot of exposition, so please bear with me, we'll get to the 'juicy' parts soon enough. 
> 
> On that note, Merry Christmas (if indeed you celebrate it)!

The Werewolf-Human wars had lasted for decades, the battlefields littered with torn apart humans and sliced-through werewolves, their blood mingling on the ground and poisoning the soil for years to come.

No one knew who had started it and there were many rumors, some talking about a fair human princess who had been ravaged by a beast while some believed that an Alpha’s cub had been brutally tortured by some human peasants for their own enjoyment.

Others were certain it was a forbidden love that had started it all, the romance between a wild, beautiful Alpha’s daughter and a nobleman causing a rift between two tribes that had spread over the lands.

The only certified truth, however, was how it had ended, on a cold, rainy night after a particularly brutal battle that had cost hundreds of lives on both sides.

Her expression torn with grief the leader of the werewolves, a fierce and courageous Alpha, had stepped in front of the leader of the human army in her human form, palms facing upward as she had held out her hands towards this king from a far-away land, never breaking eye-contact with the human royal as she had stepped forward, well within his sword’s reach.

According to witness tales the king had been moved by the gesture of trust and he had put away his weapon as well, his eyes conveying the same sorrow over the blood on the ground they were standing on.

The resulting truce had been volatile, at first, as many of the werewolf packs had struggled with the knowledge that it had been them to surrender, despite their physical superior strength.

However, the leader of the werewolf army, who had lost her entire family in the battle, had spent the rest of her life working tirelessly to maintain peace, her words of wisdom and pure Alpha authority calming even the most rebellious wolves.

Many human kings and queens had thus joined the werewolves in their grief as they had laid the fearless leader to rest sixty years later, since humans and werewolves had established a status quo at that point that, while still unsavory to some, had quickly become the law of the land.

Though initially at a loss as to how to co-exist in peace, some packs had decided to use the strength and agility that humans were so afraid of for humanity’s good instead, offering their services to lords, kings, and queens alike as they travelled the now peaceful lands of the human kingdoms.

As more and more packs had adopted this nomadic life-style werewolves had slowly become a – albeit temporary – part of human communities, showing their good intentions through hard work and dedication to better the lives of their more fragile human neighbors.

They weren’t slaves, as the packs received wages for their hard work, and they weren’t subjects, either, since werewolf packs were governed by their Alphas and therefore free from any binding affiliation with the human communities they joined temporarily.

For the most part this separation worked towards harmony between the races, since a human leader could have never truly understood the needs of a werewolf and Alpha instincts did not extend towards wholly providing for humans.

However, the separation also placed an immense pressure on Alphas and human kings and queens alike to be able to work together in harmony, a skill that especially young and inexperienced leaders on either side sometimes lacked.

It had been decades since the last bloody uprising of a werewolf pack but all too often the tension remained on either side, sometimes dissipating after the first peaceful month of co-existence, sometimes lasting the entire stay of the packs within a kingdom.

It was a rare occurrence for a pack to stay at one specific place for longer than two years, five at the most, and while there were rumors of packs that had given up travelling completely and stayed at a place for good, no one could actually recall the name of such a pack.

If an Alpha and a human leader came to an agreement the pack traditionally moved into the servants’ quarters at their castle, performing labors such as construction, farming, and in very rare cases even domestic chores within the castle, although most human royalty preferred to be this close to only their own kind.

In the over two hundred years since the war there had also been three known cases of packs working as mercenaries, fighting a king’s enemies on his behalf and spilling the blood of his adversaries, but each time the Alphas of near-by packs had rallied together, fighting their own if they had to in order to stop the butchering.

The long years of the war had decimated the werewolf-race, which had already been the minority to begin with, and most Alphas were aware that, despite their superior strength, they stood no chance against a full army of humans, fueled by hatred and blinded in their fear.

In recognition of the Alphas’ peace-keeping efforts many kingdoms had adopted laws of protection that were specifically targeted towards exploitation of any kind and in some kingdoms werewolves were even encouraged to openly celebrate their traditions, hoping to further bridge the gap between the races.

Many rejoiced in these celebrations, heralding them as a sign of peace, but those who were not easily swayed didn’t need to take an all too close look behind the façade to see how fragile the relationship between humans and werewolves still was.

Despite the many decades of official peace many humans had never lost sight of the fact that their friendly neighborhood werewolf could easily kill them or turn them and even the most open minded among them could be observed pulling their children away from a were subconsciously, even while they were offering a friendly greeting.

Wolfsbane trade skyrocketed whenever a werewolf pack came to town and many royals wore wolfsbane infused jewelry in their dealings with Alphas, a breach of etiquette that was as much an ignored taboo as asking the question whether or not a werewolf was listening in to a private conversation among royalty.

Additionally, there were still families that passed the knowledge of how to kill a werewolf along to their children, old families who had fought as hunters during the Great War, and although there hadn’t been a noteworthy confrontation between old hunters and werewolves for many years most packs shied away from kingdoms with a strong hunting culture regardless.

Werewolf children, meanwhile, were taught that humans were vulnerable from an early age on and depending on the Alpha’s ideology it was either communicated as a superior advantage or a warning, a reminder of how easily the truce could be broken by an unfortunate accident.

For as long as he could remember, Derek Hale had been taught the latter.

At 23 years of age he was the only son of Talia Hale, an Alpha who, at 45 years, was almost unprecedentedly young to lead such a large and long-established pack.

Talia had raised her children to be protective of humanity, to not see them as inferior but as equals with a different skill-set, and Derek and his sisters, 25 year old Laura and 18 year old Cora, had grown up listening to the story of the truce with rapt fascination.

Talia Hale had become an Alpha many moons ago and was known for her excellent control of her pack and her diplomatic skills in dealing with the humans, making the Hale pack one of the few that were actually sought out by human advisors to the king rather than having to ask for employment.

On the upside, Talia’s reputation meant that she could not only pick and choose the kingdoms the Hale pack traveled through but also make demands, making sure that her Betas would be treated with respect and received a fair wage for a reasonable amount of work.

On the downside, the large number of kingdoms interested in the Hale pack’s services and their ready willingness to adhere to Talia’s demands made it more difficult to pick out those royals who were truly sincere in their offerings, the temptation to pick those who offered more money and amenities always present in Talia’s negotiations with the humans.

Talia’s pack consisted of thirty wolves, many of them very young, as Talia had welcomed quite a few orphans into her pack throughout the long years of their journey. The fact that so many of them were not only very young but also unmated made it even more important to be cautious.

A younger pack was an asset to a king, for younger wolves had more endurance and could be put to work harder and longer than older weres, but it was also a temptation – a fact that Talia was only to aware of.

Although it was strictly forbidden by law in every single kingdom known to were and man, sexual exploitation of werewolf servants occurred more often than most were willing to admit and amongst many gruesome tales of human kings and queens exploiting their wolves’ servitude in a twisted way or young, inexperienced werewolves accidentally turning or, in the worst cases, killing humans during a passionate encounter, Talia had vowed to prevent this type of tragedy from happening to one of her Betas.

She had good reason, too, since many kingdoms upheld severe punishments for wolves who had been caught with humans. Those punishments were often harsher than the punishments that were inflicted upon the human in question – an inequality that was usually explained away by the werewolf’s bigger threat potential – and in some kingdoms the crime of a werewolf becoming intimate with a human was a death sentence.

Besides the remaining old-school hunters who were just waiting for a werewolf to become an actual threat, these laws presented the most danger and inequality to the werewolf race, especially considering that the instigator of such a forbidden tryst was so rarely a werewolf.

Like their pure animal brethren, werewolves were at their core deeply monogamous and family-oriented, holding their life-long mating bonds almost sacred, and therefore most werewolves would have never seriously considered a relationship with a human.

Firstly, the harsh punishments served as a dangerous warning and even though some young wolves liked to fantasize about exploring their sexual desires with a human before settling down with a werewolf for good, few were willing to take the risk of being discovered.

Therefore, the werewolves involved in sexual scandals with humans were almost always minors, young weres either in or barely out of puberty who had yet to learn how to control their various desires when faced with temptation.

Although most royals shied away from actually declaring a death sentence for a minor, all too aware of the risk of a werewolf uprising, there had been a few gruesome exceptions and Talia had taken great care to teach her children to be careful in their displays of affections with humans, not willing to take the risk of anyone mistaking their intentions.

Secondly, procreation between werewolves and humans was, by far and large, considered impossible, which some Alphas considered even more damning to their packs than the risk of an executed or imprisoned young wolf.

Ever since the end of the war werewolf packs had been growing steadily, but they were still in the minority compared to the humans and therefore born werewolf children, even more so than the rare human formally asking to be turned, were thought to be invaluable.

As humans had their struggles within their human societies so had werewolves, and procreation was one of the most dominant ones, driving a wedge between more traditional and progressive Alphas.

Talia’s instincts made her yearn for a strong pack, but she was strongly opposed to the ban of birth-regulation methods that many Alphas enforced, some even going as far as to give Alpha orders to force their Betas into having as many children as possible.

The Hale Alpha loved the youngest members of her pack with all her heart, serving as godmother to them all, but she also valued the privacy of a mated pair, priding herself on never having given an Alpha order that impacted the bonds of her few mated Betas in any way.

It was one of the topics Lady Melissa McCall had brought up when she had requested a meeting with Talia towards the end of their two-year contract with Queen Martin, having been sent by King John II to thoroughly vet the Hale pack and – in case their politics and values were found to be agreeable – to formally invite Talia’s wolves into the employ of the small but reputable Stilinski kingdom.

“It’s a good sign that they care about how we treat our own,” Laura had whispered to Derek, her ear almost glued to the wall as she had eaves-dropped on their mother explaining her pack’s values and Derek had shrugged, far more interested in his book than listening to their mother’s assurances that the Hale pack deserved its good reputation.

When she had been younger Laura had been immensely fascinated with the stories of forbidden romances, utterly convinced that it must have been a secret tryst between a werewolf and a human that had started the war between the races, going so far as to even joke about a forbidden romance of her own and rolling her eyes good-naturedly whenever Derek had stared at her in shock.

Like his sisters Derek had been raised to be kind and courteous to humans, but unlike Laura he did not find them in the least fascinating, much preferring the company of the werewolves.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t encountered kind and beautiful humans in his life, but their scent, while not pungent, had always seemed off to Derek, making him feel uncomfortably on edge rather than experiencing the sense of belonging, trust, and family he felt in the presence of his pack, their soft, earthy scents comforting and grounding him.

At 25 years of age and with much more knowledge of how the world they lived in worked, Laura had all but outgrown her pubescent fantasies of being the first werewolf to successfully have an affair with a human, but she was in no hurry to find a werewolf mate either, a choice that Talia, who had been mated at the age of 18, occasionally mock-lamented over but – Derek was all but certain – secretly envied.

Derek, meanwhile, had never understood why anyone would even bother to risk the punishment that came with breaking the fraternization laws and even though he had started considering a serious courtship in the past few years, he was also in no hurry to be mated.

Additionally, scent was one of the key factors in finding one’s mate and although Derek wasn’t blind and could appreciate symmetric features as much as the next wolf, he had yet to experience the type of breath-taking scent talked about in werewolf romance tales.

Thanks to Laura’s successful eavesdropping Derek had learned they would spend the next three years at Stilinski Court approximately twenty seconds before their mother had marched into the room, grabbed Laura by the ear and dragged her into her private chambers to introduce her as her ‘no longer quite as young delinquent’ second-in-command and future Alpha of the Hale pack and Derek had laid his book aside with a rueful sigh.

As part of their contract Queen Martin had allowed the werewolf children and teenagers free reign to their extensive library, a testament to the young princess’ dedication to her studies.

Derek, who – like most wolves raised for a life filled with hard labor – had been taught only the bare minimum of basic math, reading, and writing by the older weres, had cherished every opportunity to learn more about their kind’s history, engrossing himself in the large tomes as often as he could.

Cora had spent most of her free-time in the library with him, though Derek strongly suspected her desire to read had mostly been motivated by her admiration of Princess Lydia, even if she would have never admitted it out loud.

All in all, their time at Martin Castle had been a nice reprieve and Derek was not nearly as enthusiastic about leaving as he had been at the end of earlier working contracts.

He didn’t know much about King John II or the rest of the Stilinski royal family, but given how small and poor their kingdom was compared to the large Martin territory, Derek doubted he’d find something there that could keep him entertained as easily as the Martin’s library had.

Laura, who had always been restless, was excited to explore new lands and meet new people but Cora shared Derek’s relatively low level of enthusiasm over having to leave the Martins, brooding silently next to him as they set out for the Stilinski kingdom on a cold but sunny day in January.

As they trotted along next to each other Derek wondered – not for the first time – if Cora’s admiration for Princess Lydia had been of a more intimate kind than she had ever let on, his heart filled with worry for her as she continued marching forward with a perfectly blank face.

However, Cora’s scent was filled with regret rather than heartache and Derek – who had never spent much time with humans outside of his work – finally concluded that his sister was in fact mourning the end of a good friendship.

For as long as he could remember Derek’s best friend had been Boyd, a young werewolf who had been bitten by a rogue Alpha as a child and then been abandoned in the woods, living there for months before Talia had found him and taken him in.

He was quiet and hard working, loyal and kind, and Derek felt his heart go out towards Cora when he tried to imagine how it would feel to no longer be able to spend time with his best friend.

When his little sister let out a soft sigh Derek grasped her hand, squeezing tightly but not saying anything and after a while Cora squeezed back, not looking at him but not letting go of his hand either as they continued walking.

When he looked up Talia was gazing at him over her shoulder and Derek could almost feel her gratitude and approval, his wolf responding with a pleased internal purr.

The Hale children had lost their father in a barn-fire many years ago and ever since then Talia had been mother, father, and Alpha to them, a balancing act that was not always easy and that Derek, now that he was old enough, could barely imagine undertaking on one’s own. He wanted to make his mother proud more than anything and was terrified of disappointing her.

As they finally passed the walls surrounding the capital city of the Stilinski kingdom Derek, as was his usual custom, softly muttered a prayer to the moon that the pack would fit in and perform to his mother’s full satisfaction and pride.

Beacon Hills was a small city with the castle situated in the very middle and even though there was an additional wall surrounding the weatherworn but still impressive building Derek couldn’t help but notice the relaxed way in which people were leaning against the red stone as they talked amongst each other. Derek even noticed a group of children trying to climb up the ivy growing along the wall, with no guards in sight to shoo them away or reprimand them for getting too close.

Where Derek was used to pomp and etiquette the Stilinskis – at least from what he could see and what his mother had said – seemed to favor a more egalitarian approach and as they stepped past the gate to greet their welcoming committee Derek bit his lip to keep in his little grin at the sound of the children’s laughter wafting over the wall.

Their welcoming committee was unusually small, consisting of a single young man with brown eyes, floppy hair, a crooked jaw, and a huge grin, his scent indicating neither the fear nor the tension that so often lingered over initial interactions between humans and wolves.

His clothes were worn but fancy enough for Derek to suspect he was either part of or at least close to the royal family and next to him even Cora cracked a smile when the young man took a deep bow before Talia and almost toppled over in his excitement.

“Greetings Alpha Hale, it is my utmost pleasure to welcome you to this castle! My name is Scott McCall, son to the King’s first advisor Lady Melissa McCall and future advisor of Crown Prince Mieczyslaw. My mother thought I needed some practice in diplomacy for my future duties, so she sent me to greet you and … oh no, does that offend you, I didn’t mean to imply that you weren’t important enough for my mother to come on her own, I’m so sorry, I …”

“It is quite alright Lord McCall,” Talia said quickly, placing a steadying hand on the young man’s shoulders, and Derek didn’t need to see the tension in her back to feel agitated over the sound of the young lord’s breathing, which had gone haywire from one second to the next.

“Your mother asked me to give you this opportunity and I granted it willingly. We are happy to be here and welcome your instructions about the castle,” Derek’s mother continued, her hand still placed just so on the young man’s shoulder that her thumb could graze the bare skin of his neck, subtly drawing out whatever ailment seemed to be causing the man’s painful-sounding breathing.

He could feel the entire pack relaxing along with Talia when the man’s heartbeat and breathing returned to normal and the young lord shook his head as if to clear it, his smile just a little bit forced when he faced Talia again.

“I am sorry about this Alpha Hale, I guess I got a little too excited about welcoming my first werewolf pack. His Royal Highness is expecting you in the throne room. I can take you there myself and show your pack to their quarters after, or …”

“I am sure one of these fine young gentlemen will be capable of guiding me to the throne room, Lord McCall. I thank you for your offer but I fear my pack is tired after the long journey. The sooner they can rest the better, so if it is no bother to you I would appreciate you showing them to their quarters.”

“Excellent idea Alpha Hale,” McCall beamed, jerkily nodding towards a young man who had been leaning against a well.

“So help me if she gets lost Greenberg, I’ll …” McCall hissed frantically under his breath and Derek smirked, well aware that his mother would have been able to find her way on her own.

“Well, Sir Greenberg, how long have you been living at the cast … careful, don’t trip over that rock there, Dear … where was I, ah yes, what is your position at the royal court?” Talia asked jovially as she – to Derek’s fond amusement – immediately started leading the way and next to the young werewolf Cora let out a little snort, the cloud of misery that had been hanging over her head seemingly lifted for the time being at the utterly resigned expression on Lord McCall’s face.

“Our quarters, Lord McCall?” Laura asked, looking equally amused and McCall shook his head almost like a puppy that had fallen into a puddle, his grin sheepish.

“If I may ask you a favor, Scott will do just fine. Lord McCall was my father and I am in no hurry to become like him,” Scott said and Laura nodded quickly, having obviously noticed the slight tick in his jaw despite the man’s friendly tone.

“Certainly Scott. My name is Laura Hale, future Alpha of the Hale pack. The dashing fellow to my right is Der-Bear and the regal beauty to my left is Miss Coralee the Precious. Feel free to address them in that manner and please spread the word,” Laura grinned and Derek sighed, turning towards the confused looking man with a raised eyebrow.

“Derek. This is my sister Cora. Please ignore the future Alpha of the Hale pack, she has been known for her delusions,” he said, almost surprised at himself for feeling so at ease with the young human.

It usually took a couple of weeks for humans and werewolves to get used to each other, but the young Lord’s complete lack of fear and easy-going attitude almost made Derek forget that they hadn’t been at the Stilinski castle for longer than a few minutes.

As Laura introduced the rest of the pack and Scott dutifully admired the rocks the youngest pack-members, 10 year old twins named Aiden and Ethan, had found on the way, Derek let his gaze wander across the courtyard, taking in the weatherworn but content faces of the servants.

They all looked well fed, rested, and cared for and when Scott led them to the west wing of the castle rather than the cellar, where servants’ quarters were commonly located, Derek began to understand why.

“In the past we mostly worked with smaller packs of ten wolves at the most, so we didn’t take the size of your pack into consideration when Mother heard the Hale pack was looking for new employment. I am truly sorry about this, but it seems like you all have to share a room, Scott said apologetically as he opened a door to his right and Derek stared, wondering if the young man was making a joke.

“We prefer to share quarters, actually. Pack thing,” Laura said quickly, her own expression equally baffled as she took in the spacious quarters, complete with two comfortable looking beds, two dressers, a desk, two chairs, and a large window letting in the warm January sun.

Scott looked at her in relief and Laura grinned back, throwing her arm around a startled looking Cora and dragging her towards the very end of the corridor, the two of them already bickering over who would get the bed closest to the window.

“Shall we take this one, then?” Boyd asked and Derek nodded, respectfully bowing before the young Lord.

“We thank you for your kindness, it is most appreciated,” he said, trying to remember the protocol, and Scott beamed, looking like he was about to shake in excitement.

“Awesome man! Wolf. Oh god, forgive me, I …”

“Thanks again!” Derek said quickly, not wanting the younger man’s breathing to become strangled again as he quickly tugged Boyd inside their new quarters, closing the door behind him with a soft click.

“So … which bed do you want?” he asked his best friend and Boyd rolled his eyes, smirking when Laura and Cora’s voices got louder from the other end of the hallway.

“I could truly care less,” the stoic werewolf answered and Derek shrugged, plopping down onto the bed on the right side of the room and letting out a contented sigh as he kicked off his travelling boots.

On the other side of the room Boyd did the same and when he let out a loud moan as his head hit the pillow Derek smirked, turning on his side to watch him.

“Good?” Derek asked and Boyd nodded with a contented expression, muttering, “I shall kiss every chicken who voluntarily let feathers for this divine pillow …and then I’ll probably eat them, but they will feel the love regardless.”

“You might have your chance at the welcoming banquet tonight,” Derek replied, and Boyd uttered a noncommittal grunt, turning around to face Derek.

“I still think it’s unusual for the King to host a welcome banquet for us. I mean, I love it, don’t get me wrong, but it just seems so … strange.”

“I’m sure you’ll enjoy yourself,” Derek grinned, holding up his hands to shield his face when Boyd, who was notoriously known for his appetite in the pack, threw the pillow at him, then jumped up immediately to retrieve his new most prized possession.

“Do you even own clothes that are appropriate for a royal banquet?” the tall Beta yawned a minute later, already half-asleep after their long journey, and Derek shook his head, having asked his mother that as well and received a, “Just wear what you’re comfortable in, Cub,” reply in response.

“I am pretty sure Uncle Peter is the only one of us who owns royal banquet appropriate clothing. Well, and Mama, of course,” he mused, grinning when Boyd grunted, “Appropriate is a term _highly_ up for debate in this case,” his words followed by soft snoring soon after.

They still had about four hours until the banquet and Derek decided to follow his best friend’s example, letting out a soft sigh before he fell asleep as well.

Boyd had been right – the pillow alone was worth their time in Beacon Hills.

 

==================

 

“I can see all the way down to his unmentionables, why doesn’t Mama put a stop to it?”

Cora glared into Peter’s direction, her soft hiss quiet enough for the humans around them but loud enough for the werewolves, many of whom directed knowing smirks into her direction.

Derek rolled his eyes but stayed quiet, not interested in getting in between his younger sister and his uncle, who was grinning at Cora in a truly wolfish way, nails lengthening as he tugged his collar down deliberately.

“So gross!” Cora hissed, turning away from Peter with a jerky motion and Peter smirked, clearly feeling he had won that particular fight.

They had just arrived in the great hall of the castle and as they were waiting for the king and his son to arrive Derek let his eyes wander across the room, taking in the modest but undoubtedly fine-quality furniture, the distinctive lack of shiny golden surfaces, and the paintings, many of which featured a beautiful woman under what looked like a cherry tree.

As Cora continued to mutter under her breath Derek turned towards Laura, who had been seated closer to the royals and was currently engaged in a discussion with Scott. The chair next to the young lord was still empty and Derek figured it would soon be occupied by Prince Mieczyslaw.

“I sure hope you will enjoy the food. Chef Finstock has an eccentric taste at times, but even his wildest experiments are usually edible. I hear the hunters brought back a sizeable deer for this banquet, so we probably don’t have to worry,” Scott said, seemingly recognizing his faux pax right after.

“Oh no, I am so sorry! Damn it, I really do need to work on this. Not werewolf-hunters, of course, but hunter-hunters. The practice of werewolf hunting has been outlawed in this kingdom for over a century and I can assure you that the Argent family completely agrees,” Scott hastily added.

Frowning, Derek looked towards the other side of the hall, where a blonde woman seemed to be in deep discussion with an older man. As if she could tell that she was being watched she suddenly looked up, staring Derek straight in the eye, and the werewolf averted his gaze quickly, feeling unsettled in a way he couldn’t quite explain.

Talia had, of course, approached the topic of hunters with Lady McCall but Scott’s mother had assured her that the Argents, a matriarch-run family of five, had already peacefully cooperated with two werewolf packs ever since they had joined the castle staff five years ago.

Over at the head table Scott was currently praising the bow skills of the Argents’ daughter, an apparently mesmerizing beauty by the name of Allison, and going by his besotted tone Derek was not at all surprised to see a dark-haired girl with chocolate brown eyes and a dimpled smile watching Scott with a fond expression when he chanced another look at the hunters’ table.

As Laura politely faked interest Derek turned back towards Boyd, fully expecting him to longingly stare at the carts of food that the servants had just started to wheel into the hall.

Boyd was definitely staring, but it wasn’t at the food at all. Instead, he seemed to be unable to tear his gaze away from the blonde woman pushing the dessert cart, her long curls bouncing wildly on her head as she gesticulated towards a tall, curly-haired man serving drinks.

Boyd let out sigh and Derek nudged his shoulder, raising his eyebrows when Boyd startled.

“Don’t even think about it,” he whispered and Boyd crossed his arms over his chest, his “I know!” sounding decidedly unhappy.

The woman was still arguing with the tall man and Boyd let out another sigh, muttering, “Vanilla. Warm vanilla and cinnamon, with a dash of ginger,” and for a moment Derek wasn’t quite sure whether he was talking about the dessert or the woman who, to Derek’s sensitive nose, emitted a human’s average bland scent with a dash of sweat, though that was understandable given the warmth in the room.

He was about to reply when the large door opened and the king entered with his son, causing the noble guests and werewolves to rise from their seats.

King John II looked to be in his mid to late forties, his eyes warm but a bit somber as he approached Talia, who was seated at the head table and had risen like all the others.

King John II held up his hand when Talia attempted to bow, holding it out instead and when Talia shook hands with him Derek was stunned, having never seen a royal greet an Alpha as an equal before.

Next to him the young prince held out his hand as well and as Talia greeted him warmly Derek took in his thin frame but surprisingly broad shoulders, brown eyes alert and pale skin dotted with moles. He looked nothing like his father but familiar nevertheless and it took the werewolf a moment until he realized the prince’s strong resemblance to the woman in the portraits, strengthening his assumption that it must be the late queen.

As the royal family moved to be seated Derek frowned, his nose twitching as he became aware of a scent that hadn’t been there a few seconds ago. Cora whispered something but he ignored her, too focused on finding out where the scent, growing more and more potent to his senses now that he was paying attention, was coming from.

It was soft, yet spicy, earthy but also fresh, and Derek could almost feel his mouth watering, wondering what sort of special food the Stilinski’s chef had produced that could smell this good to him.

The more he smelled it the more agitated his inner wolf became, anxious for him to get closer to the source of the scent and for a brief second Derek debated pinching his nose shut, afraid he was about to make a spectacle of himself.

The urge passed as soon as it had come but now he could feel a deep clawing in his gut, his entire body tense as the source of the scent continued to escape him.

He paid no attention when King John II addressed the Hale pack to welcome them, his breath shallow as wave after wave of the scent washed over him, sometimes stronger, sometimes milder, but always tantalizing, drawing him to the edge only to wrap him right back up.

Whatever it was, Derek knew he just had to sample it and he wasn’t even aware that he’d dug his claws into his pants until he could hear a soft ripping sound.

“Derek? Hey, Derek,” Boyd muttered, sounding concerned but Derek shook his head, looking around to see if anyone else was this affected.

To his utter dismay he seemed to be the only one about to lose control of his wolf and he dug his claws into his thighs with purpose, the pain clearing his head to a point where he was actually able to pay attention to what was going on at the royal table.

King John II was now engaged in a discussion with Talia and Prince Mieczyslaw had turned towards Scott, while Laura was animatedly talking to Lady McCall.

The Prince’s large, doe-like amber eyes were sharp and observant, glinting in the soft candle-light, and when he gesticulated a fresh bout of the near irresistible scent wafted towards Derek, making the werewolf hold his breath in startled confusion.

Granted, Derek hadn’t been able to pick up the scent until _after_ the prince and his father had entered the hall, but the servants had wheeled in some more food right after, making the prince as a source highly unlikely.

Humans simply didn’t smell this way, even the kindest and most generous ones that Derek had encountered in his short life, and so he tore his gaze away, telling himself that his senses were playing a trick on him.

Almost against his will Derek began to listen in to the prince’s conversation with Scott, the fact that the prince seemed to be surrounded by the mysterious scent making him powerless to fight against the breach of etiquette.

“… don’t you remember what happened the last time you tried to get involved with werewolf rights? You incited a riot and your father and the Alpha had to sit you and the other rebels down and you got into big trouble!”

“You will not let this go, will you? I was _eight_ and not even my oldest followers had the ability to grow facial hair yet! Besides, it really wasn’t all that bad, you are over-exaggerating!”

“Not that bad? You made the Ito pack children run all around the castle screaming about tyranny and oppression and none of them even knew what these words meant! You included, I might add!”

“Very true, but they turned out to be the appropriate choice of words regardless, shaming all those who had doubted me!” Prince Mieczyslaw replied and Scott sighed, tugging at his floppy hair in anxiety.

“Listen, Stiles, I really don’t think this is the appropriate time to talk about changing the law again, the Hale pack just got here and I can assure you that Talia Hale chose Stilinski Castle out of her own free will!”

“Free will? Ha! They’re here because they _have to_ , Scott, not because they want to! What else are they supposed to do? I mean, when was the last time a master took on a werewolf apprentice? Who ever offered a pack a piece of their land so they could establish their own territory? They are _wolves_ , Scott! Wolves establish territories! Wolves don’t wander around from castle to castle for a change of scenery! If they do, it’s because external factors are forcing them to and that’s _exactly_ what we’re doing to them by making it near impossible for them to settle down! They might ‘choose’ which kingdom to serve but at the end of the day that’s really not a choice at all! And my father is enabling this – again!”

“So you’d rather have them work for a royal who doesn’t believe werewolves should be treated as equals, like your royal father does? He might be enabling it but at least he’s offering packs a pleasant alternative, doesn’t that count for something?”

Prince Mieczyslaw pinched his nose, looking frustrated.

“I love you like a brother Scott, I do, but mark my words, as soon as I take the throne I’ll end the practice of enslaving werewolves once and for all!”

Even though he was still mesmerized by the smell, which had only grown stronger the more agitated the prince had gotten, Derek found himself getting angry the more he heard, his arms crossed over his chest as he glared at the young man.

Derek had no doubt that the prince’s heart was in the right place, but he was also convinced that Prince Mieczyslaw had no real understanding of werewolves whatsoever.

The Hale pack was proud of their traditions, proud of their reputation, and Derek neither felt enslaved nor did he doubt for one second that they could have settled somewhere the minute his mother chose to do so, trusting her to do what was right for her pack without question.

Additionally, they weren’t wolves but _were_ wolves and Derek had too often been reduced to his animal side alone to be willing to tolerate the prince’s well-intentioned worries.

He had even less patience for being treated like a charity case, all too aware that no human would ever actually follow up on his words. Angrily, Derek ducked his head, hands grabbing his knife and fork so tightly he could hear the metal creak.

“Will you keep your voice down, they’ll hear you!” Scott continued the conversation and when the pause that followed became too long to be natural Derek looked up again, fingers once more clenching around the silverware when he found that the prince was looking directly at him.

“I get the feeling someone already has,” Prince Mieczyslaw said slowly, never breaking Derek’s gaze as his expression hardened into a challenge.

“In fact, he doesn’t seem to be in agreement with me. Quite a shame, really, considering it’s _his_ life that some human will have total control over one day and not mine.”

The sharp pain of metal digging into his skin made Derek hiss in pain and when he broke the prince’s gaze he was shocked to find that his palms were bleeding, having broken the knife and fork into two pieces each.

He had not lost control like that in a long time but the scent was still there and it was driving Derek’s wolf absolutely crazy, making the prince’s words that he would have normally shrugged off seem all the more patronizing and ignorant to him.

It was a herculean effort but he managed to tame down the wolf, blocking out the prince’s voice completely as he focused on the food, though he was barely able to taste anything other than the cursed smell that – he was certain now – was coming from the head table.

When the plates were cleared away Derek had mostly regained control and soon after the king and the prince stood up, walking along the tables with Talia as she introduced them to each member of her pack.

The closer they got the more Derek’s carefully regained control was shattered to little pieces and by the time the royals were standing right in front of him he felt almost lightheaded, his hands clammy as he forced himself to stand absolutely still.

 _Mine, mine, mine_ the wolf chanted inside of him but Derek neither could nor wanted to believe that the obnoxious prince was in fact the one who had caused him to lose control.

“Your Royal Highness, please allow me to introduce my two other children. This is my son Derek and my youngest, Cora.”

“We are grateful to have you,” King John II said warmly, holding out his hand for Cora and then Derek to shake.

“Delighted,” Prince Mieczyslaw said, his tone once more challenging.

He held out his hand to Cora first, exchanging a few polite words with her and Cora’s head perked up when the prince mentioned the Stilinski library, encouraging her to ask his father for access.

Next to the king Talia was smiling in relief at Cora’s improved mood and with his family otherwise occupied Derek turned towards the prince, who was looking at him with a peculiar expression.

“Your Highness,” Derek said calmly, holding his breath as he held out his hand, fingers closing around the human’s large one.

A second later he ducked his head, not wanting the prince or his family to see the way his eyes were flashing, his wolf thrumming inside him at the feeling of the prince’s skin against his own.

He could both smell and feel the prince’s frustration, realizing that the young man probably thought he felt he needed to submit to him, but Derek couldn’t risk looking up, not with his mother this close.

He had finally and without a shadow of a doubt identified the source of the scent … and it was the only one he would never be allowed to sample.

**Author's Note:**

> Next Up: The pack settles into the castle and I flesh out some more of the characters' backstories, their thought processes, and their relationships to each other before we get to the juicy bits.
> 
> EDIT: Just a little note to you guys so you know why this still hasn't been updated - at the end of last year I was basically working 80 hour weeks there for a couple of months and once that quieted down another major   
> work commitment arose that has forced me to go into fic-writing hiatus. I appreciate all of your comments and I would like to reassure you that yes, this will be finished :).


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